


Octoplush

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Carnival, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: While on a date at the carnival, George tries to win Ringo a prize at one of the booths. And he refuses to quit.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Octoplush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufusrant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufusrant/gifts).



> rufusrant beat me in a writing challenge ( _again_ ), so here's her reward :')

With his hand locked firmly in Ringo’s, George navigated the crowded streets of the carnival. It had been the perfect date: a scenic ride on the Ferris wheel, a fight to the death on the bumper cars, and a spin on the carousel that they definitely weren’t too old for, what’re you talking about? Plus, lots and lots of food.

Ringo released his grip on George’s hand, tore off another piece of their pink-and-blue swirl of cotton candy, and held it to George’s mouth. “Thanks,” George said through a mouthful, his tongue tingling with sugar and his chest tingling with love. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, casting a romantic glow over the road. Swept up in the moment, George pressed a kiss to Ringo’s lips.

“You taste like sugar,” Ringo said with a smile.

“You _always_ taste like sugar.”

Ringo laughed. “Alright ya big softy, I think you’re high on the sugar.”

“Worth it.” George sneaked in another peck on the cheek and Ringo grinned wider. Then Ringo slowed down and glanced up. “What’s up?” George said.

“Aren’t they cute?” Ringo practically cooed, pointing to a row of huge, fluffy stuffed animals dangling from the roof of one of the booths. There were brightly colored bears, dogs, and dragons—and on the end, a massive blue octopus with an adorable smile and rosy cheeks.

“We’re playing this one,” George said, dragging Ringo up to the booth.

“I—I thought we were going home?”

“Not anymore.” George waved down the woman running the game. “How do I win?”

She gestured to the bottles scattered around the table and held up the small rubber balls that needed to be tossed inside. George traded some cash for ten of the balls and took aim.

“Didn’t know you were into these games,” Ringo said as George’s first ball bounced off the table onto the ground.

“Sure. You gonna cheer for me or what?”

Sighing, Ringo obliged and clapped half-heartedly. When George landed his sixth ball into one of the yellow-rimmed bottles, Ringo whooped in genuine joy. “Nice one,” he said, not-so-subtly smacking George on the arse.

“Thanks,” George said, standing tall. “I’ll take the octopus.”

The woman followed his finger to the sea creature. “So sorry, sir. The grand prizes are only for landing a ball in a green bottle.”

George squinted at the table for the green-rimmed bottles. And he found the much smaller bottles in far in the back. “…You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“You’re welcome to help yourself to one of our smaller prizes.” She pointed to a display covered with tiny plushes strung on key-rings. Pity prizes.

George smacked another coin onto the counter. “One more.”

“Um,” Ringo said, stepping closer. “You sure you want to do this?” he whispered to George. He jumped back as George wound up for his next throw. Completely missing the back row of bottles, of course.

None of the ten balls hit their targets. “Good try, love,” Ringo said, grabbing George’s elbow and tugging.

_Good try?_ No way. George wouldn’t settle for a “good try.” He bought a third round of balls.

And a fourth.

By the ninth round, Ringo had lost his patience. He sat on the ground—not even complaining about how greasy it was—untying and retying his shoelaces.

“ _Fuck._ ”

Ringo rolled his eyes. “Lost again?”

No, George had _not_ lost again. Not yet. He squeezed his ninth ball—eighty-ninth overall—until he felt like it might pop. He carefully took aim and tossed it, only to see it thump into one of the useless bottles toward the front of the table. “God _damn_ it,” he yelled, hurling the last ball straight at the back wall of the booth. A second later, he ducked out of the way as it bounced straight back at him.

The worker, who had been perfectly patient until this point, tightened her lips. “Sir, if you’re going to behave this way, I have to ask you to step away from my booth.”

“…No.” George hadn’t come all this way just to lose to some fucking bottles. He was _going_ to win Ringo that octopus.

“Sir, please—”

“George.” Ringo was back on his feet. He grabbed George’s hand. “It’s alright. We can stop at the store on the way home and buy one ourselves.” Under his breath, he added, “It’ll be way cheaper that way, too.”

George tightened a fist. “Why? Why can’t I get this damn thing right?” He buried his face in his hands. “This was supposed to be the perfect ending to the perfect day, and now I’ve gone and fucked it all up.”

“Hey.” Ringo ran his hand over George’s hip. “It’s still a perfect day.”

“Yeah, right,” George scoffed.

“It _is_.” Then Ringo sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give it a shot myself.”

George’s fist unclenched slightly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Just one shot. What’s the harm?” He laid another coin on the counter, and the woman warily handed him the balls.

Ringo glanced at George as he tossed the first one up and down in his hand. He must have been unsatisfied with George’s frown because he stuck out his tongue, spun around, and tossed the ball backwards.

Right into one of the green bottles in the back.

Even the worker’s jaw dropped. “C-congrats.”

“I did it?” Ringo said, dumbfounded.

“You _did_ it!” George shrieked, lifting Ringo off his feet and kissing him passionately.

Once Ringo’s feet were back on the ground, the woman handed Ringo the octopus and bid them farewell at last.

…And Ringo held the toy out to George.

“What’re you doing?”

“Giving you the prize you wanted so bad?”

“I wanted it so I could give it to _you_.”

Ringo’s eyes widened. “Why the hell’d you go to all that trouble for me?”

“To make you happy,” George spat.

“I was already happy, you fool,” Ringo said with a laugh, setting the octopus on George’s head.

“No no, you take that back.” George pushed the plush back into Ringo’s hands.

They kept shoving it back and forth until they erupted into giggles. When they finally left the carnival, they each held a tentacle, letting the octopus swing back and forth between them. They were both smiling. 


End file.
